“So you thought you should take him home with you?”
“Yes. Uh, no. Well, first I only wanted to take care of his back. It was a reckless move, I know, but then Jannes died, and I was afraid Jambres would come looking for Ahmose. He hasn’t—not yet, anyway. But then I worried Ahmose would be punished for running away. So we ended up … letting him stay.”
Kamose nodded.
“So, are you really his uncle?” Bezalel poured some fruit juice into two cups and offered one to Kamose.
“Yes. Jannes persuaded my sister, Tia, to become part of Ramses’s harem. The lifestyle, the riches, they intrigued her. But it destroyed her. When she discovered she was to have a child, she could not bear it. She died the night she bore Ahmose.”
Kamose drained his cup. “I told no one she was my sister; she begged me not to. When she knew she was dying, and she realized her child would be treated as a slave instead of a royal child like the others, she called for me. She asked me to watch out for him as best I could, keeping the secret. I agreed.
“She didn’t even give the boy a name before she died. My parents named me after King Kamose, a pharaoh hundreds of years ago. His younger brother, Ahmose, established Egypt as the greatest land in the world. I named the baby Ahmose, so the power of that name would rest on him.” He stared at his cup for several moments. “I hoped it would protect him.
“I have watched him for seven years, but he doesn’t know who I am. I knew Jannes beat him, but I didn’t know how badly.”
Bezalel took the cup from Kamose. “Ahmose told me Jannes hated him because his mother died. Do you know what he meant?”
Kamose nodded. “To gain favors, Jannes always tried to find pretty young women for the king. And Tia was beyond beautiful. Ramses liked her, and Jannes gained the title of Chief Magician for finding such a beautiful woman for him. Tia was a favorite of Ramses—for a few months. Then, as with all the others, he grew bored and returned to Nefertari.”
Kamose stood and walked to the window. After a few moments, he continued. “She was by this time pregnant, and devastated. She could not face a life of neglect and shame. She knew Ramses would never love her, knew he never really had. Yet she was not free to leave or wed anyone else.
“She would rarely eat. She stayed in the harem’s quarters. She would not even let me see her. Childbirth was simply too much for her.”
Kamose turned to face Bezalel. “When my sister died, Ramses held Jannes responsible. Ramses made Jambres Jannes’s ‘Chief Assistant,’ but he was more like a watchdog. The two never got along. They fought to be the best constantly. Jannes took Ahmose to be his personal slave to get some sense of revenge, and he took it out on Ahmose every day. Jambres sometimes did, too. I don’t trust that man.”
“So do you want Ahmose back now?” Please say no. Please.
Kamose thought for a long moment. “I don’t think that would be best for him. Who am I to care for a small boy? I am a soldier. And they would punish him severely if he returned.” He stepped up to the table. “You seem to be an honorable man. It was obvious at your house yesterday that you care a great deal for Ahmose. I think it best he stay with you. If you want him, that is.”
“I think you would have a hard time convincing my mother to give him up.” Bezalel laughed.
“Then that is where he belongs. Tia would be happy.”
As Bezalel lay down to sleep that night, the cool breeze caressed his face. He loved watching the stars. Soon it would be too cool at night to sleep outside. He looked over at Ahmose. The child’s face radiated peace. He knew Jannes was dead and he could stay, and that was all he needed to know.
But there was far more that Bezalel needed to know. What was Jambres planning? Was he still a threat to Ahmose? If Shaddai sent Moses, why was there so much trouble? And what was next? Would Ramses ever release them?
He did know a few things now. He knew that no matter what Ahmose thought, this was not the end. He knew there would be more trouble, chaos, and pain to come. And above all, he knew nothing would ever be simple again.
Bezalel bent over the table and inspected the carnelian pebble. The midday sun streamed through the high window and bounced off the ruddy rock and its white streaks. The necklace needed only one more rounded stone. He rolled the small rock back and forth in a groove cut in a long piece of sandstone, spinning the red carnelian around and around to make a perfect sphere.
He stood and dragged the back of his hand across his damp forehead. He looked up.
She stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching him, smiling. Her long hair fell forward over one shoulder, and the gold strands in her tunic reflected the sunlight.
How long has she been there?
She walked in without asking and set a loaf of bread and two plums on the table. “I wanted to thank you for the other night. I know it was a few weeks ago, but I looked pretty bad for a while.”
“I doubt that.” He smiled when her cheeks colored. He took a plum and sat, and motioned to the other stool.
She sat across from him. “Anyway, I thought I would bring you something to eat to say thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He bit into the plum, never taking his eyes off her. “How did you get out of the harem?”
“They’re on the river again. No one cares what I do, anyway.”
“I do.” He winked at her.
Again her cheeks turned pink.
Bezalel grinned. He finished his plum and tossed the seed into a basket. “Would you like to take a walk by the river?”
“That’d be very nice. I haven’t been outside the palace much.”
He grabbed his thawb and led her across the portico and courtyard, and they strolled toward the Nile. When they reached his favorite rocks, he climbed up, spread his thawb out, then turned around and reached for her hand.
She hesitated. “I don’t like climbing. It frightens me.”
“It’s safe. I won’t let you fall.”
She waited a moment longer and grabbed his hand. She placed her feet carefully and clambered up with his help. When she sat and looked over the river, she let out a long breath. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Haven’t you been down here before?”
“No, I told you. I haven’t been off the palace grounds.”
“What about before? Where did you live before?”
“We lived way off the river, on a small farm. It was too far to walk here. And we never had a reason.”
“I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see the river every day. I love watching it. I love the animals and birds, all the life on it. It’s just amazing.”
“Well, I know what crocodiles and hippos are, but that’s about it.” She giggled. “What’s that?” She pointed to a leggy bird in front of them.
“That’s a heron. He eats fish. He is magnificent when he flies. His wingspan is wider than a man is tall.” He spread his arms wide. “And the white one, with the black ends on his feathers is a sacred ibis.” He continued pointing out birds and animals for a while.
She grew quiet. “Bezalel?”
“Hmm?”
“I wanted to tell you about the time you found me. At the end of the hall?”
His thoughts went back to the day she was sobbing outside the storeroom, her tunic torn, her feet bloody.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. I want you to be my friend—I don’t have any friends. I don’t have anybody now. So I want you—I need you to know … everything.”
He closed his eyes, swallowed hard. Did he really want to know? She apparently thought he did. She trusted him. He had to be worthy of that trust. “All right.”
Meri stared at the river as she spoke. “After you attacked the guard, or tried to…” She giggled, but it trailed off. “The guards led me to the king’s chamber. He didn’t come in for several hours. I had been bathed, perfumed, made up, and dressed … not to mention coached on what to say and do in every possible situation for
weeks. I was exhausted. I just wanted to sleep, but of course I was terrified. Even after all that preparation, I had no idea what to expect.”
She reached for his hand and held it. A shock went through his body, and he had to work to concentrate on her words.
“He finally came in, but he had drunk so much wine he fell asleep right away. I was so tired that I drifted off for a while, but I was afraid he’d wake up, so I didn’t sleep well. The next day, they ordered me to stay and wait in his room. So I did. All day. I didn’t eat, or sleep, I just waited.” She took a ragged breath. “And that night when he came in, he told me to undress and get in bed.”
Meri stopped for a moment. She pulled Bezalel’s hand close to her chest and clutched it with both of hers. She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth.
He moved closer to her and leaned near, his mouth next to her ear. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.
She shook her head.
He ached for her and wanted to do something—anything—to make her pain stop. His chest compressed like a giant hand had squeezed all the air out of him just listening to her, and he could only imagine what telling the story—let alone living it—must feel like for her. But it was clear she needed to finish, so he braced himself for the worst.
She continued. “He took off his clothes and got in next to me. He smelled like wine. I thought I would vomit. He started kissing me, pawing at me.” Her voice broke.
She paused again, and tears streamed down her face. She kept rocking.
Bezalel removed his hand from hers and wrapped it around her waist, giving her his other hand to hold.
“He kept that up for a while, but in the end, nothing more happened. I think he’s too old. Or he was still too drunk, I don’t know. The next day he was angry and sent me back to the harem, like it was my fault!” She stopped to catch her breath. “So I tried to run away. My feet were bare and the rocks bruised and cut them, and they caught me, not too far from the palace. They whipped me. That’s when you found me.”
He’d only been able to see her bloody feet that night, not her striped back.
He drew her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He held her for a long time and let her cry. He pushed her hair away from her face and stroked her back. She felt so small in his arms. If only he could take away all her pain. He just wanted to hold her forever and never let anyone hurt her again.
When she pulled away, she brushed at his shoulder. “Oh, I got your tunic all wet. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. The sun will dry it in no time.” He put his hands on her face and wiped away her tears.
She smiled at him and put a hand over his. “You’re the only one who’s been nice to me. I’m so glad you’re here.” She pressed her cheek into his hand.
“Me, too.”
It took everything he had not to kiss her.
Eight
Third month of Peret, Season of Growing
A soft, gray light slithered into the room from the window near the roof. Bezalel tucked a blanket around Ahmose, kissed his head, and rose. He dressed silently, grabbed a handful of grapes, and slipped out the door, careful to let in as little of the cool dawn air as possible.
The morning dawned crisp and cold. A full moon slid below the mountains as the sun peered above the Nile, as if it, too, preferred to stay in bed. A pair of antelope bounced through the brush across the sands, scattering a flock of pigeons. An owl called as it made its last flight of the night before heading to its nest. So far, it looked to be a beautiful winter day. Bezalel hugged himself against the chill and hastened toward the warm, bright palace.
Up ahead he spied Moses and Aaron walking. He sighed. No, not again. The mood in the palace had just returned to normal after the death of the livestock. Must these old men really stir things up again?
Bezalel quickened his pace and caught up to them. He passed them then whirled around. He took a deep breath and blew it out.
Moses stopped and tilted his head, looking at him. “What?” The elder’s voice was gentle.
“Do you really have to do this again?” Bezalel raised his hands in the air. “Every time the moon is full?”
“I am only doing what Yahweh tells me to do.”
“It’s not doing any good, you know.” Lowering his arms, Bezalel looked from Moses to Aaron and back again.
“No, I don’t know that at all. And neither do you.” Moses took his arm and turned him around. “Walk with me.” Aaron followed silently several steps behind.
“I am in the throne room every day,” Bezalel said. “Ramses does not care about El Shaddai or anything He says. After each incident everything goes back to the way it was before.”
“But you do not know what is in his head or in his heart, do you?”
Bezalel stopped and removed his arm from Moses’s grasp. “No, I suppose I don’t.” He stepped toward the Nile. As he rubbed the back of his neck and stared across the water, he contemplated what to say next.
Finally he turned to face the older man and walked back. “But I still don’t see how any of this helps.”
Moses shrugged. “All I know is that Yahweh said He would do mighty signs and miraculous works in Egypt, and that Pharaoh would at first not listen, but in the end would let us go. What it will take to get him to that point, I am not sure. We can only obey what Yahweh reveals, one step at a time.”
“One step at a time.” Bezalel scoffed.
They finished the walk to the palace in silence.
Bezalel felt the warmer air on the portico as it drifted from the throne room. He split off from the brothers without a parting word and hurried toward his room, not wishing to be seen entering with them. He ducked behind a pillar to see what happened next.
Ramses sneered in disgust as he caught sight of the brothers approaching.
Aaron strode about halfway into the room and halted, while Moses continued on but stopped short of the dais. He tucked his staff into his cloth belt and bent over the dying fire that lay in a large open brazier at Ramses’s feet.
The king leaned forward on his elbows and watched intently.
Moses scooped up two handfuls of cooler ashes from the edges. Then he straightened, backed up into the center of the room, and threw the gray dust high into the air. Some of the powder caught the slight breeze and blew away; most floated gently back down upon the officers and polished limestone floor.
Bezalel let out a soft gasp at Moses’s audacity in front of the pharaoh. As much as he didn’t agree with the approach Moses was taking, he didn’t want the brothers harmed.
Moses returned to his brother, nodded his head and, without a word to Bezalel, the pair crossed the courtyard and left the palace.
Bezalel chased after them. He grabbed Moses’s arm and spun him around. “What is it this time?”
“Why?” Moses waited patiently.
“There are people here I care about! These ‘signs’ are hurting them, and not getting us any closer to our release!”
Moses looked at him with sad eyes. “Did you forget what we just talked about?”
Bezalel put his hands on his hips. “I only know someone—some people—I care about very much are about to be hurt. Please tell me what is going to happen!”
Moses took a deep breath. “They will have dreadful, horribly painful, oozing sores on their bodies. They will hardly be able to move.”
“All over? Like the fly bites?”
“Not so many. But even one will be too many.”
“But not in Goshen.”
“Not in Goshen.”
Bezalel closed his eyes and paused a moment. “When?”
“Very soon.”
“How long will it last?”
“That’s up to Ramses. My guess is he’ll call for us before dusk. They’ll call on their healer god Imhotep first, but he will not be able to heal them.”
Bezalel huffed. “I hate this.”
Moses shook his head. “Yo
u’re not meant to like it. And I’m afraid I can’t do anything about that.”
Bezalel glared a moment at Moses then sprinted off toward the harem.
At the walkway’s end, two men stood sentry. Each boasted a long blade on his hip, and a spear stood in each corner within arm’s reach. He approached one. “I am the king’s artisan. He sent me to see Meri.”
The guard, not much older than Bezalel, narrowed his eyes and looked him over. “For?”
“He sent me to consult with his newest consort about a royal gift for her, but if you doubt me, have it your way. You can explain to her why her jewelry has not been designed.” He started to walk away, struggling to control his fear.
He suppressed a groan. I just lied to one of Ramses’s guards.
“Wait.”
The guard’s voice stopped him, and Bezalel took a deep breath before turning around. “Change your mind?”
“Wait here. I’ll bring her out.” The guard entered the chamber.
Bezalel tapped his foot and stared at the curtains, willing them to part.
The soldier returned and held the fabric back for Meri.
She stepped out and her face lit up, but Bezalel shook his head slightly. She frowned.
“The king wishes for you to consult with me on your gift. Please follow me.” He bowed his head.
Meri put a hand over her mouth—to hide a giggle, he guessed.
He started down the walkway and around the corner. When they were out of sight of the guards, he paused and faced her. “You have to come to Goshen with me. Now.” He took her hand in his and pulled her toward the portico. “It’s the only way you’ll be safe.”
“Safe from what? You’re scaring me.” She pulled the other way.
“Another outbreak is about to start. Like the flies, but worse. It will be painful and ugly. Please come with me, I’m begging you.”
She jerked her hands away. “No, I don’t want to leave Egypt. I don’t know that place.”
He pounded the wall beside him with his open hand. “Meri, please!” He kept his voice low, knowing they must not be overheard.
As he spoke, a mark on her arm the size of a seed appeared. It blossomed into an open sore bigger than a fig.
In the Shadow of Sinai Page 9